ZOMBIE ARM!! I mean, the open Carpal Tunnel Release Surgery

I did a video since I'm only able to type one-handed and I think faster than I can type with one hand.  In the video, I mentioned some photos and I'm sharing them here.



 On the way to the hospital... not nervous at all!




At the hospital... still totally not nervous at all...



Snazzy jewelry!



Sexy hospital gown!!



The doctor laughed when I took this photo.



Super-sexy hat!!



ZOMBIE ARM!!

Ice and elevate, Chihuahua is optional. #surgery #carpaltunnel #chihuahua #dogsofinstagram #dog

A photo posted by Pahz (@pahz_on_instagram) on Jan 22, 2016 at 4:29pm PST

Ice, elevate, two chis- for extra healing power. #surgery #dogsofinstagram #dog #carpaltunnel #chihuahua

A photo posted by Pahz (@pahz_on_instagram) on Jan 23, 2016 at 12:20pm PST

Some kind of update... (and the pun was intentional)

Hi there. I know it has been over a month since I updated. Not much has really been going on around here. I never did call my knee surgeon about my stupid knee. It started to feel better and now it only seems to bother me if I spend too much time standing or walking. The good thing about the faire is that I can absolutely go at my own pace and sit down a lot. (faire starts next weekend, by the way. July 11th is opening day).

I had a six-month followup at the VA hospital today. My blood tests look good and while a couple things are a little elevated, that'll change as soon as I get my ass moving next weekend. The Disabled Guy came home from his yearly Trip of Stupidity in May, then left again three weeks later. He got back on Monday (four days ago). On Tuesday, we had an extremely heated discussion (if by "heated discussion" means "all-out shouting match") about our central AC (heated discussion... AC... yeah). It seems that he's cold. I told him I can't have the house over 72° because the summer humidity sets off my asthma (which is mild) and exacerbates my fibro issues. And not even the pain issues, that's being pretty well controlled at the moment by the Generic Cymbalta. I'm talking about the under-the-skin itching, swelling, and general lack of sleep... that sort of stuff.

He kept yelling at me about how cold he was and I said that he could just put on a hoodie or something. He yelled again about how he was cold and I said- surprisingly not yelling- "You honestly cannot be mad at me for having a medical condition!" I had to repeat that a few times and added a few terse: "Fibromyalgia is a legitimate medical issue. So is asthma!" I get the feeling one of his less-than-reputable relatives (not naming names, but my kids would know who without me even saying) told him that fibro was fake.

Trust me- it isn't. And not just basing that on my own experiences, I say that because it is damn near impossible to get the VA to diagnose anything that is considered an "invisible illness" or even just a chronic illness (like, say, arthritis). So the fact that the goddamned VA hospital went through all that it has to actually diagnose me with it, well... that's a fucking legit thing. (I also found out today that my doctor had to jump through hoops, promise her firstborn, and sacrifice a small animal to get me on that Generic Cymbalta. Apparently, the VA is a dick to fibro patients *ding* (that's a CinemaSins joke)

Anyway, the I told the doctor about the conversation- minus the actual asshole behavior, because nobody really wants to hear about The Disabled Guy not being funny- and she said: "When it comes down to 'being cold' versus 'possible death', you win. When it comes down to 'being cold' versus 'severe physical discomfort', you still win." and we joked about it. Then she added: "Even though we're using a joking tone, even mild asthma isn't funny. Make sure he knows that."

I told him. He wasn't very responsive because he was watching old war movies and then eventually he was catching up on "Game of Thrones" episodes. (when he comes back from his visits to his family, he's cranky and extremely well... asshole-ish. There's a lot of extremes in living with a stroke person. Especially since his stroke is of the old-school variety. A few minutes after our blowup, he was back to normal and talking about me having two feet). I don't know if anything I said to him sank in through all the talk of dragons, random soft-core sex scenes, and whatever the hell else goes on in that show.

But, I did learn something good at my doctor appointment- the reason for my ridiculous amount of fatigue is that my thyroid has yet again gone a little wonky. So my Synthroid dosage is going to be tweaked a little. That's good news because it means that it can be fixed and it ISN'T the fibro! And that means that the Generic Cymbalta still seems to be working.

I am very awake right now- at 227 AM as I type this- because when I went to bed at 10 PM, my legs and lower back/abdomen area decided those millions of hairy-legged spiders wanted to set themselves on fire and crawl out through my skin. I'm pretty sure that was caused by the fact I had a fasting lab today (which meant no caffeine, no food, and no Vicodin in the daytime) and I had to speed-walk through the VA hospital. For some reason, I have to go in, walk halfway down one wing of the hospital to the lab, then trek all the way to the other end of a different wing to pick up a piece of red card stock with my name on it, and then go all the way back to where the lab was to the clinic where I see my doctor. Today, I said: "It'd be nice if you'd move this office, I dunno, a little closer to the clinics." They agreed, but of course, that's not going to happen.

I'd like to talk about photography, but all I got is the same old stuff. Macro flowers, raindrops on leaves. I've been adding text to photos from last season at Bristol and doing my "countdown" by uploading two to four photos at a time. If you'd like to see it, here's the link to the Facebook album. And since I don't have much else going on at the moment, here's some photos of bubbles I took last week. The pink-tinted blob in the bubble is a reflection (refraction?) of the extremely bright pink shirt I was wearing.












This is my 365 self-portrait from day 121 of Year 6. I'm blowing bubbles while being back-lit by my flash. It took a lot of attempts and a lot of dripping bubble solution on my shirt to get this shot.



And, for funsies, here's my 365 self-portrait from day 125 of Year 6. People were sharing the article about how zookeepers and such were "Pratting" with their animals. So, I did the same with mine.



And I did take some macro water drops, so here are a few...

These are things that happened today...

I had a long day. It got to the point where I could no longer wait... the lawn had to be mowed. It was 18 inches high in some areas. The chis would disappear for several seconds and then emerge on the other side, slightly confused and a little scared. Jasper would bound through it like a tiny,
derpy gazelle. So, I did it. I decided to mow the lawn. And these are some things that happened today.

My hair is long enough now that it can go into an actual all-up full-on ponytail.

I used the 110 SPF sunscreen that I got for this year's faire season.

Surprisingly, the lawnmower actually fired up. After six months of sitting in the shed, it turned over on a single pull.

The grass was so thick that the lawnmower stalled. A lot. I lost count at around twenty times. I couldn't go too slow, it would choke to death. I couldn't go too fast, because it would choke while not cutting anything.

When it stalled the second or third time, I couldn't get it to start again. I was sweating profusely. The sunscreen that boasted itself as "sweat-proof" and "won't run into your eyes" was sweating off my face and burning my eyes right out of their sockets. I took off my sunglasses and actually walked from the middle of my backyard into my house with my eyes closed. I knew exactly where the steps were, where the loose boards in the deck were, and the door inside. That's when I decided to take a break.

I went back outside, wearing the O'Hare Towing baseball cap that I stole from the Disabled Guy (to help control the sweat pouring into my eyes, bring all the sunscreen with it).

I did a few more slow passes in the deep grass and out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement on the deck. But it wasn't anything like birds or a squirrel. It was the goddamn flock of dogs! Somehow, smartypants Gypsy got the door open and all the dogs came out onto the deck to see what I was doing. I got them back inside (there was very little shade out there on the deck, I don't like to do that to them).

I managed to mow the lawn, despite the intermittent stalling.

I discovered with the inside of a golf ball looks like. Oh, and I found almost a dozen golf balls in the tall grass. I only saw the inside of one of the golf balls.

I was actually able to turn off my photographer's brain after the first ten or fifteen minutes. Every time I saw something, I thought: "I should get my camera before I mow this..." But, dammit, the lawn needed mowing and art would have to wait.

After another stalling, I took another break and drank two 16.9 ounce bottles of water.

In less than ten minutes, three different people showed me that I was in their email (they posted screen caps on my Facebook). Earlier this week, I was informed via email that I won the "Action Photo of the Week" for ThinkGeek! I won a $100 gift code for their site and they used my Steampunk Wonder Woman T-shirt photo in their email newsletter.
(scroll to the bottom!). Having been outside most of the day, I hadn't checked my email associated with that newsletter and didn't know it was out yet.

My lower back was getting a bit achy after the first hour, but I was expecting that, really.

While mowing the front yard, passing drivers stared at me like I was some crazy person. As if a fat chick wearing a neon yellow baseball cap and tattered jeans and mowing a lawn was a weird thing.

I was finally at the end of the mowing. There was about a six foot by... oh, four-ish feet rectangle of grass in the very back part of the yard. And the goddamned lawnmower stalled again! AGAIN! And after four pulls on the start cord, I said: "Fuck this noise... I'm done! That's it!" I put the lawnmower away, locked up the shed, trudged inside, and drank two more bottles of water.

The baseball cap was almost entirely soaked with sweat. The very outer edge of the brim was still dry.

I got an awesome gift in the mail from an awesome lady named Tricia.

I sat here in my chair for almost an hour and a half without doing anything. Well, I drank more water and caught up on Facebook and so on.

I took the dogs out and fed them. Then I took a shower (finally) after 5 PM.

When I pulled my ponytail out, I found a stick in my hair. And some pine needles (there are pine trees in our yard).

When I got undressed for my shower, I found grass clippings, a few pine needles, and dandelion fuzz in my bra.

After my shower, I discovered some new tan lines on my shoulders. "Sweat-proof" my ass.

I ate my dinner, took that photo of me wearing that awesome bracelet, and as I sat down to start typing, one of my favorite movies came on cable. (it's called The Baytown Outlaws and it's stupid action with a mix of humor. I love it). And now, at the end of this typing and link-pasting, my muscles are only mildly achy. Like you'd expect for spending hours mowing the prairie in the backyard. My feet are sore too, because I wore my old, worn-out boots to mow.

But, you know what didn't happen today?

My knee didn't hurt. Not at all. Still doesn't.

That's what I call a good day.